Raven Disenrolls Coyote

The saga continues:

Coyote was strolling manfully around the casino. Mrs. Badger was lounging in bed, thinking. She picked up the phone and called Raven.

“Hi, Hon,” she sang when Raven answered. They had, at one time, been close.

“How’s life at the casino?” asked Raven.

“Not bad,” Mrs. Badger replied. “Foods good. So are the floor shows. I’m getting tired of Coyote, though. He’s full of himself, and frankly, after all the stories I’ve heard, I’m less than happy with how well he is endowed.”

“Yah, I admit there are design flaws,” acknowledge Raven. “He was a prototype. Anyway. what can I do for you?”

“I was thinking,” said Mrs. Raven. “Maybe it’s time for Coyote to move on.”

“What’s in it for me?” asked Raven directly. Mrs. Badger described the benefits in some detail.

“Hummm,” thought Raven. “Maybe your right.”

“He is the chief, though,” encouraged Ms. Raven.

“No problem!” replied Raven. “We’ll hold a new election.”

“There are a lot of people in Coyote’s clan,” Mrs. Badger reminded Raven.

“I’ll insist that only people with a birth certificate can vote. That’ll shrink the field.”

“But none of us have a birth certificates,” Mrs. Badger mused.

“No problem!” replied Raven, hopping up and down on one foot. “Given I was the only one at the creation, I can decide who gets a birth certificate.”

And so it happened, that a few days later, Raven found himself enjoying breakfast in bed with Mrs. Badger, and Old Man Coyote found himself sitting out on the curb in front of the casino. Later in the day, visitors to the casino were treated to a brief brawl between Coyote and a very anger Badger.

 

To read more about the issue of disenrollment, visit michaelwatsonvt.com, or see Original Pechanga’s Blog.

Coyote Disenrolls Badger

Coyote and Badger sat at a table in the Casino cafe, watching herds of European Americans and a few others spending their hard-earned dollars on a faint and distant hope.

“Somehow this is familiar,” said Badger. “I think maybe these people should go back home and open casinos. Maybe it’ll help their communities.”

Coyote was not really listening. He was watching a pile of dollars grow in his mind’s eye. He was also watching Badger’s wife. “Mum,” he thought. “I could have that for myself.” He was thinking of the money and the wife.

Questioning Colonial Psychology

My work has been greatly influenced by the work of Michael White and compatriots, as well as Native American teachings. One of the many places these streams come together is in addressing the emotional and cognitive distortions inherent in Colonial Psychologies. Colonial Psychologies server to justify the activities of Colonial institutions and their apologists. They also work to place responsibility for colonial behavior on those who are most abused by that behavior. Validation of concepts such as manifest destiny, the justification of bullying, and the glorification if power and greed are inherent to Colonial Psychologies, as are ideas about the voracity of racial, economic, and cultural hierarchies.

A Visit With Grandmother Spider

This story occurred when I was five years of age and living in Texas. Or, maybe it was last week. I’m not sure. Perhaps it was a dream. Maybe it will happen tomorrow. For all I know, it might be unfurling right now. Stories are tricky like that: they resist being pinned down. They insist on lives all their own. I guess they’re a lot like us. Maybe that’s why they fancy us, seek us out, demand our attention. You know what I mean?

Grandmother Spider sat as straight on her stool before her loom. Her fingers seemed older than Time itself, yet nimble. The shuttle of weft seemed to fly between her hands as she pushed it expertly through the hand spun warp. She wove in a pool of sunlight in the corner of the room. Grandmother looked out across the prairie to the mesa, and the mountains beyond.  Smiling to herself, and whispered, “It is good.”

“Grandson,” she said, acknowledging my presence in the room. “Good Morning.”

The Transformative Power of Story

The last couple of weeks have brought to our attention a large number of posts about the transformative power of story. We would like to share a few of those.

We begin with a theme that has been sounded in my therapy practice, in Native blogs, and in recent Native generated performance: the increasingly synthetic environment in which we live. “How do we,” my patients and students ask. “Make our way through a territory increasingly lacking connection to other people or the natural world?” “How do we tell stories that bridge the gulf between ourselves and others?”

Coyote’s Purchase

Coyote was walking across the parking lot carrying an immense flat screen t.v.. I watched as she slid it into the back of her van, closed the doors and sauntered casually around to the driver’s door.

At about that time may curiosity got the best of me. Now I knew better, mind you. I knew better, but I asked anyway, “So what’s with the t.v.?”

Coyote Lingers

In the last installment of this story, a friend and I were breakfasting in a restaurant when Coyote appeared, told a humorous story, and performed a healing for my friend.  The story continues:

Coyote looked at my friend. “Well done, don’t you think?” he said. He was looking pretty proud of himself.

Coyote Returns

I was sitting with a friend in a restaurant. We were sitting at one of those extra-tall, round tables where your legs dangle from extra-tall chairs. My friend, and elder, was talking about how all the abuse he suffered as a kid had been plaguing him lately. I was wishing I could do more for him.

About then, Coyote walked up to the table. I was very happy to see him, even though, more of than not, his presence brings trouble. “I’ve a story for you”, he said.

Solace for A Suffering World

I spend many of my days sitting with people who are courageously finding their way in our challenging times. Often, they are very aware of the state of the world. They may feel isolated in their deep caring. Often they wonder whether the pain they feel is their own, or is that of the world.

There can be no doubt that Pachamama, Mother Earth, is suffering.

So are innumerable beings. How could we not, if our hearts and spirits are open, feel their pain, fear, confusion, and anger? How could we not hear their calls for aid?

Salmon and Raven

“She’s (Raven) always minding the business of the rest of the world, eavesdropping, weighing voice and action against consequence. She minds the business of the two-leggeds the most. They’re all a bunch of loose  cannons. Humans are capable of wanting things which defy their needs, counter their interests and destroy the very spiritual sensibility the were given when they came into this world. The original humans of Turtle Island were there in the sky world when we all received our original instructions. We (salmon) were there. Does anyone remember? It seems to me that it is incumbent on the original humans to share this piece of vital information. Oh well, who am I to judge, you are returning to the same place you came from and your grandmothers eagerly await your return – they will remember how to deal with you. The only responsibility I have right now is to talk with you.”

From “Where Love Winds Itself Around Desire”, by Lee Maracle. In First Fish, First People, Roche and McHutchison, eds, University of Washington Press, 1998.

One of my friends, an Abenaki healer, called earlier. It seems she had been watching “testosterone driven” hunters on t.v.. These hunters were shooting wolves and bear from helicopters. My friend was upset. After all, bear and wolves are sacred.